


Bite Sized: Omgcp

by pensversusswords



Series: Bite Sized [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, One Shot Collection, characters and tags will be added as more fics are posted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:40:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6634099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensversusswords/pseuds/pensversusswords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of all the fics I've written and posted on tumblr, generally under 1k each or fics that can't really stand on their own. Currently all Jack/Bitty but some other pairings may appear at some point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Sugar"

**Author's Note:**

> Specific info and warnings are included at the beginning of each chapter.

The thing is, he doesn’t mean to. 

Bitty always calls people by pet names. It’s one of his southern tendencies that he slips into easily; he probably uses “sweetheart” and “honey” more than he uses everyone’s names, and “darling” slips in more than once in a while. Everyone’s pretty much gotten used to it by now, and Bitty does it without thinking. It’s a natural, unthinking thing he just does.

Except for Jack. 

When it comes to Jack, he makes very, very sure not to call him anything other than his name, because referring to him in such an endeared way would just feel a little bit too real. Bitty is afraid that he’ll get too addicted to it; if he calls Jack sweetheart in the living room, on the disgusting green couch, he’ll think about calling him that in the kitchen with the scent of pie hanging thick in the air, or on the roof with Jack’s arm tight around his shoulder, or in bed with their hands on each other and breath mingling as he breaths it into Jack’s mouth…

It’s just better to avoid doing it, because he thinks that if he does, he’ll have trouble stopping. He would get addicted to it; the softness of the endearments curling on his tongue, knowing that it means something different when it comes to Jack, something gentle and fond.

So, when it happens, it’s an accident. 

It’s early morning; Jack is standing by the counter, leaning against it with the sun pouring in the window behind him, spilling over his shoulders and casting warm light around the kitchen. He’s about to dart out for a run, so he’s wearing running shorts and a tee shirt, but in the meantime he’s stealing bits of the freshly chopped fruit Bitty prepared earlier for the pancakes he’s currently making. Bitty keeps catching him and swatting at Jack’s hands, who smiles in an impish way that Bitty so rarely sees, which makes Bitty’s stomach swoop every single time. 

“If you eat all of those before breakfast I’m making you chop more,” Bitty warns with a pointed look, just after he glimpses Jack ‘discretely’ popping a strawberry in his mouth in his peripheral vision. 

Jack shrugs innocently. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.

Bitty shakes his head, turning back to the pan to flip the pancakes. “You’re not fooling me, Jack Zimmerman,” Bitty admonishes, trying to be stern but completely failing. He’s smiling too much, he can’t help it. “You’re not as sneaky as you think, sugar.”

He freezes the instant the word comes out of his mouth. The endearment that came so easily to his lips, sweet and natural on his tongue. He breathes in sharply, his heart hammering against his ribcage as he freezes in place. 

Bitty wants to talk to Jack like that always, to use every endearment on him, to stand with him with the morning sunlight on their backs with easy smiles and laughter under their breaths. He wants Jack to want Bitty to call him those things, he wants it to be something that Jack craves in the same way that Bitty does. 

He wants it, and he knows that, but saying it out loud is like a freight train to the chest. 

It’s funny, he thinks in those panicked, frenzied moments, that it doesn’t feel quite so real until it’s been said out loud, until it’s out in the open for anyone to see. Bitty feels stripped bare, and he’s not sure he likes it. It’s a heavy ache in his chest, a familiar yearning in his gut. 

“Bittle.” Jack’s voice breaks through his thoughts. Bitty looks over to see Jack’s concerned eyes and a spot of red from the strawberry smudged onto his bottom lip. It makes Bitty’s heart flutter again. “Bittle, that pancake is going to burn.”

“Oh!” Bitty says, or gasps, and snaps back into action. He flips the last pancake on the pan and breathes in deeply. 

“You alright?” Jack asks.

Bitty nods jerkily. Jack doesn’t know, and Bitty takes a few moments breathing in deeply, pretending his heart isn’t clenching painfully in his chest.

 


	2. "I dare you to kiss me"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: none

It’s probably the wine that makes Bitty loose-lipped enough to say it, because he’s wanted to say it a million times before but always managed to stop himself before the words left his mouth. 

They’re sitting on the floor with their backs to the couch; Bitty is next to Jack with his toes curled under his thigh, his cheeks flushed and warm from the half empty bottle of wine that’s sitting between them. Jack looks a little bit flushed as well, and Bitty can’t help but wonder if his skin would be warm under his fingertips if he reached out and touched him, let his hand linger on his face. 

He’s thinking about this, with the wine buzzing in his veins, when he says it. 

“I dare you to kiss me,” he blurts out. 

Jack freezes with his hand halfway to the wine bottle, his muscles locking in place and his eyes going wide as saucers. He looks over at Bitty with his lips parted slightly in surprise.

Bitty feels panic curling in his gut. He tells himself to play it cool; it doesn’t have to be a big deal. He’s seen Shitty kiss Jack on the mouth numerous times, for no other reason besides him being excited. 

He tells himself this, but it doesn’t matter because his mouth is just not behaving.

“I - I mean,” he stammers, a hand flying to his face. _God_ , he’s so warm. “Sorry, I don’t know - that was stupid, you don’t have to do that of course… I just… I don’t know what I was thinking? I wasn’t thinking, oh Lord-”

He trails off with a choked, nervous laugh when Jack unexpectedly wraps his fingers around Bitty’s wrist.

Gently, he tugs Bitty’s hand away from his face, and Bitty reluctantly looks at him. He’s close, so close, and the room is a little bit blurry, but Jack is right there, his blue eyes the one thing Bitty focuses on. He’s leaning closer, his gaze is intent on Bitty, and Bitty feels his cheeks flush even more.

“Jack?” he whispers. 

“Bittle,” Jack answers simply, his voice low and rough. 

He’s close enough now that their noses are almost touching. Bitty can feel his heart thumping in his ribcage. Despite being so warm, he shivers. 

Bitty lets out a shocked breath when Jack closes that last bit of distance and presses his mouth to Bitty’s, his lips gentle and firm all at once, his hand still wrapped around Bitty’s wrist. The kiss is undemanding and soft, a mere suggestion. Bitty’s breath falters, and he presses back into the kiss after a moment of shocked stillness, his free hand curling over Jack’s knee. 

Jack pulls away after a moment, just far enough that their noses bump together, so he can look at Bitty with dazed eyes. Bitty is certain he looks the same. 

“Truth or dare?” Jack asks. 

“Uh.” Bitty stares at him for a long moment, gathering his wits. “Truth,” he whispers.

Jack lifts a hand to cup Bitty’s cheek, his thumb brushing against Bitty’s skin, gentle and yet leaving a burning path in its wake. “Is this okay?”

Bitty doesn’t answer. Instead, he nods frantically and he isn’t sure who leans in first, but the next thing he knows, his lips are on Jack’s once again and the world around them has faded into the distance. Jack’s hands are heavy and firm on his waist, Bitty’s hands are in Jack’s hair, and somehow they ended up laying horizontally on the floor. 

Bitty loses himself in kissing Jack until it feels like it’s all he’s ever known, and even then, he doesn’t think he could ever get enough of it.


	3. "Next time, I'm taking the shot."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Samwell Men's Hockey Team plays a Bean-Boozled drinking game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: alcohol consumption

Ransom was still retching a full two minutes after eating the bean. Holster couldn’t stop laughing, Bitty was rubbing his back, his face creased with concern, while Shitty patted his shoulder, occasionally giving Ransom a sympathetic “brah”.

“Next time,” he gasped, glaring at all of them, “I’m taking the shot.”

Holster snickered, and Ransom glared at him extra hard. 

“What, were you expecting the vomit one to taste good or something?” Holster asked, letting out another snort of laughter. 

“I was hoping I would get the peach one!” Ransom responded, his voice bordering on frantic. He glance over at the little bowl full of beans and shuddered. 

“It can’t be that bad,” Jack said as he reached across the table for the spinner to take his turn. 

Ransom was sucking back a beer, so he didn’t respond, but he did make a rude noise around the rim of the bottle. Jack just grinned and rolled his eyes. 

He spun the little plastic arrow, and when the arrow landed on the brown bean, he rifled through the bowl until he found one. 

“You sure you wanna eat that?” Bitty asked, eyeing Jack’s hand like he was about to drink a vial of poison. “That one is really bad.”

Jack shrugged. “So is that ten dollar bottle of tequila.” 

So, Jack tossed it into his mouth and bit down.

It took him about three seconds for his eyes to go as wide as saucers, to realize his mistake, and to find himself across the room with his head in the sink.

Everyone erupted into hooting laughter. 

“I told you, I _told_ you they were awful!” Ransom shouted, but everyone was laughing to hard to respond to him.

While he was still rinsing the horrible taste off of his tongue, Bitty appeared at his elbow with a shit eating grin and a shot glass of tequila. 

Sighing, Jack took the glass, accepting his fate. 


	4. "Bonne nuit, mon coeur"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G  
> Warnings: none

Jack’s halfway through a sentence when he realizes that Bitty’s fast asleep. 

His mouth snaps shut immediately, whatever he’d been in the middle of saying slipping from his mind. He falls silent, staring at the screen. 

Bitty is laying on his stomach, the side of his face pressed against his pillow, his pale, sleep-mussed hair tumbling over his forehead. He still has his rabbit tucked under his arm, and now that he’s quiet, Jack notices that he’s making adorable little snoring noises. 

Jack feels something bubbling warm and sweet in his chest, and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He takes a moment just to stare at Bitty; the familiar slope of his shoulders, the “ZI” on the back of Bitty’s shirt, the way the blankets block the rest of his name out because they’re tugged up around Bitty. He takes a moment just to look, and marvel at the fact that he _can_. Jack gets to see Bitty soft in his sleep, his hair all ruffled and his face relaxed in his slumber. He gets to wake up next to Bitty and see him blink the sleep out of his eyes. 

When they’re together, he’ll be able to kiss Bitty good morning. He won’t care about morning breath, but Bitty might, and Jack might earn that face Bitty makes when he scrunches his nose up in that adorable way. 

It’s quiet moments like these when he realizes how much he loves Bitty, and it still surprises him that it’s not hard. It’s hard being away from him, it’s hard keeping it a secret, its hard being scared of not knowing what could happen for them in the future. 

But loving Bitty, right from the moment he realized he did, has always been easy. That part has never been hard, and he knows it never will be.

Jack lingers for a few moments more, soaking it all in, before he sighs a little and reaches out to brush his fingers across the screen, right where Bitty’s hair is falling across his forehead. 

“Bonne nuit, mon coeur,” he murmurs softly. 

Bitty doesn’t stir, and Jack closes his laptop, gets up to set it on his desk and turns off his light. 

When he gets back in bed and pulls the blanket up to his chin, his heart is full and he falls asleep knowing how it feels to be completely and utterly happy.


	5. "Well, this is awkward."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T+  
> Warnings: none

Bitty’s sitting in Jack’s lap, his legs wrapped around Jack’s waist, and they’re kissing deeply enough to almost make up for the two weeks they spent apart, when a tiny yelp from the doorway of Bitty’s bedroom startles them apart. 

“I am _so_ sorry,” a familiar voice squeaks, just as Bitty is making a rather undignified noise and is pitching himself out of Jack’s lap. He stumbles to his feet in an instant, whipping around to see Tango frozen with his hand on the doorknob, his lips parted in surprised. 

There’s a long moment of absolute, complete silence, in which Bitty completely forgets how to talk. 

Jack’s the one to speak first. “Well,” he says flatly. “This is awkward.”

If the situation were different, Bitty would chirp him for being so abysmally unhelpful. 

As is, he just lets out another frantic noise. “Tango, what on earth are you doing? I thought you were with the rest of the boys at the library, and why are you just _barging into my room_?”

Tango’s hands fly up and he takes a step backwards. “I’m sorry! I wanted to ask you something and didn’t think I’d be interrupting anything, I’m so sorry Bitty… wait.” Tango stops and squints. His face melts into something between confusion and delight. “Is that Jack Zimmermann?”

Behind him, Jack groans. Bitty seconds the sentiment.  

“Tango,” he says slowly, sucking in a fortifying breath. “Why don’t you go downstairs? Jack and I will be down in a minute and we’ll all talk. And don’t say a word to anyone, alright?”

Tango’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “Of course not! I would never!”

Bitty shoos him out of the room after that, Tango still mumbling apologies under his breath. Bitty shuts the door behind him. 

“He won’t say anything,” Bitty says. Tango, for all his questions, isn’t stupid, and doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. 

“Uh,” Jack says, frowning. He’s standing up now, adjusting his shirt and smoothing his hair down. Bitty had done a number on it with his fingers, as per usual. “What are we going to say to him?”

“Oh my goodness, _I don’t know,”_ Bitty says, dropping his face into his hands. “Lord I feel like I’m about to go give a teenager the birds and the bees talk, oh my god what are we going to say? And I thought you _locked the door_.”

Jack shrugs. “I was busy with other things.” Bitty can tell he’s worried - his mouth is a bit too tight and he’s frowning a little bit, but they’ve talked about telling the Haus anyways, so it’s probably just the shock of the moment that’s making him look a little nervous. Even so, Bitty can see the faint teasing glint in Jack’s eyes as they flick down over his half unbuttoned and rumpled shirt. 

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann,” Bitty admonishes, straightening his shirt hastily and crosses his arms over his chest. “You stop that right now and help me figure out how we are going to tell one of my teammates that I was making out with _a NHL star_ in my bedroom in the middle of the afternoon.”

Jack steps forward and slings an arm over his shoulder and kisses Bitty’s temple. “It might be easier if we do it by just telling him I’m your boyfriend?”

Bitty sighs and sags into Jack’s side. This time, Jack kisses the top of his head. 

“Alright,” Bitty says, nudging Jack to the door. “Let’s get this over with.”


	6. "Sweet slumbering Quebecois princeling."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G  
> Warnings: none

Bitty is well aware that Jack is a creature of routine, so he isn’t exactly surprised when Jack insists on skyping him at their usual time, even though he’s clearly exhausted from an especially hard practice that day. Even so, after the third time Jack yawns in the span of ten minutes, Bitty has to say something. 

“Jack,” Bitty says, squinting at his laptop screen. “You’re dead on your feet. You should get to sleep, we can talk tomorrow sweetheart.” 

“But ‘m not on my feet,” Jack mumbles around a fourth yawn. “Already in bed.”

Bitty rolls his eyes in fond exasperation and chuckles. “ _Jack_.” 

Jack grins at him sleepily. His eyes are drooping shut, and his dark hair is flopping over his forehead. He looks soft and happy and content; Bitty wants nothing more than to run his fingers through that hair, to press fluttering kisses all over his face. 

“Wanna hear your voice,” Jack slurs, slouching back into his pillow, peering over at Bitty on his laptop, which is sitting next to him on his night stand. “Like listening to you talk. Tell me about that new recipe you were trying?”

Bitty makes a frustrated noise. He knows what Jack is doing; he’d been texting Jack increasingly frustrated texts while he tried three separate times to get this particular torte recipe nailed down, so Jack knows that bringing it up is an easy way to get Bitty talking. 

Well, if Jack wants to listen to him talk… he’s never been able to resist an opportunity to indulge his boyfriend, especially considering he never asks for much. Just these quiet, intimate moments seem to be enough for him, and if that’s all he wants from Bitty, he’ll give it to him ten times over. 

Bitty’s just getting into a very detailed account of his second attempt when he realizes that Jack’s breathing has evened out, and his eyes have been closed for a while. He’s probably been asleep for a while at this point, and Bitty’s mouth snaps shut as soon as he notices. 

Jack’s face has gone all soft and relaxed in sleep, his skin alabaster against the dark shock of his hair, his lips parted slightly. His breath is soft and quiet, and Bitty can see the rise and fall of his chest underneath his Samwell shirt. 

Bitty is immediately filled with a rush of affection; a warmth and contentment bubbles in his chest, enough to numb the dull ache of wishing he was actually there beside Jack. 

Also, his boyfriend looks damn cute, if he does say so himself, which gives him an idea. 

He pulls out his phone and snaps a quick picture of his screen, opens a recent conversation and attaches the photo. 

**[Eric Bittle 10:27 pm]**

> _Img: Bitty’s laptop screen with skype open, Jack curled up in his bed in Providence, fast asleep._

\- i hate being so far away from him

**[Eric Bittle 10:29 pm]**

\- being in love is STUPID shitty

\- :( 

**[Shitty Knight 10:34 pm]**

\- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

> _Img: Shitty’s blurred face, whose mouth is wide open. Perhaps screaming._

\- LOOK AT THAT ABSOLUTE BEAUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

\- sweet slumbering quebecois princeling 

**[Shitty Knight 10:35 pm]**

\- have no fear my dearest bits, u will be together and doing unspeakable things to each other in no time 

\- be sure to give me deets

**[Eric Bittle 10:42 pm]**

\- i will do no such thing 

\- thank you shitty 

\- <3


	7. The Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G  
> Warnings: none

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of headcanon style, but I thought it was fic-ish enough for my to justify putting it in here.

What do you think Bitty’s reaction is when he sees that Jack keeps all of his little notes?

Imagine him shuffling into the kitchen one morning, the first morning he’s ever slept in later than Jack. Normally Jack gets up before Bitty has even stirred, goes for a run, showers, and gets back in bed to cuddle Bitty awake. Bitty wakes up with soft kisses down his neck and his boyfriend whispering good morning into his skin and he can’t think of anything he would rather wake up to. 

But this time, they stay up late talking and… other things. Bitty knows Jack is especially tired from a long week, so he convinces Jack to turn off his alarm for the next morning and sleep in a bit; he deserves a day off. Surprisingly, Jack reluctantly agrees.

So Bitty wakes to the sound of Jack’s soft breathing beside him, rolls over to see Jack’s face all relaxed with sleep, his lashes dark against his skin. Bitty pauses to appreciate how lucky he is to be waking up to this man, and carefully leans over and kisses Jack’s forehead before slipping out of bed. He grabs one of Jack’s shirts on his way out; it’s so soft and so big on him, and it smells like Jack. Bitty loves it. 

So he’s trying to be as quiet as possible as he walks out into the kitchen with the intention of making breakfast for Jack. Normally they do it together, which is always fun, but Bitty really wants to take advantage of this one opportunity to have Jack wake up to a breakfast he loves. 

Bitty doesn’t even notice the notes at first. He’s already halfway through mixing the pancake batter and is just about to put away the milk when he catches sight of his own handwriting. He stops dead with one hand outstretched to open the fridge, and his mouth is hanging open a little bit as he stares at the rows of post it notes that are on the fridge in front of him. 

And the thing is, Bitty knows that Jack loves him. He knows it; Jack isn’t shy about telling him, he tells him all the time, and Bitty sees the look in Jack’s eyes when he says it to him. It’s as intense as his game face, but so much softer, and it makes Bitty feel like he’s the only person in Jack’s world for those few moments. He knows Jack loves him. 

This makes him feel different, though. Those moments when Jack tells him he loves him are beautiful and Bitty feels weak in the knees when he hears it, but those are moments Jack _chooses_ to share with him. This is different. Bitty feels like he’s peeking behind the curtain, looking past the affectionate touches and the reverent smile Jack gives him–the one that tugs softly at the corners of his mouth and makes Bitty’s heart flutter–and seeing just how deeply embedded into Jack’s life he is. It seems silly, but his heart is racing and suddenly he realizes that when Jack isn’t with him, he’s thinking about him. When Bitty is miles and miles away from him, Jack is still here in this kitchen, loving him just as much as if Bitty were standing right in front of him. Bitty feels silly for being so overwhelmed by it, but he’s tearing up and he can tell that he’s smiling stupidly but he doesn’t care. Jack thinks about him in those quiet moments that he has by himself in his apartment… even when they’re apart and he’s alone, he wants little pieces of Bitty with him. He loves Bitty _that much_ , so much that he doesn’t get tired of being reminded of him. 

Bitty has known Jack loves him for a while now, but it isn’t until that moment that he really realizes the magnitude of it, because Jack keeps his silly little notes on his fridge and Bitty has never been happier in his entire life. 


	8. "Is that my shirt?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T+  
> Warnings: anxiety attacks

“Um, honey,” Bitty says, his voice very careful and quiet. “Is that my shirt?”

Jack pauses in the middle of pulling one plain, black sock onto his bare foot, and looks up at Bitty with his wide blue eyes. He’s wearing one of Bitty’s plain t-shirts–one of the few he owns–so Bitty can understand Jack grabbing the wrong one, since it looks somewhat similar to what Jack usually wears. Well, he _could_ understand, if it weren’t for the fact that he can currently see a large portion of Jack’s torso, and the fabric is pulled taut over his shoulders, straining to fit Jack’s broader frame.

“Hmm?” Jack doesn’t even really focus on Bitty. He’s looking just to the right of where Bitty is sitting against the pillows on their bed, his gaze distant. 

Bitty shifts so that he’s sitting up straighter, eyes locked on Jack. “My shirt, sweetheart,” Bitty says again. “Unless you’re starting a new trend, that shirt is around ten sizes too small. Not that I’m complaining about the view or anything.” He throws a very pointed glance towards Jack’s abs, which are peeking out from underneath the pale blue of Bitty’s shirt. His hope is that it will earn him a smile. Maybe even a laugh. 

It doesn’t. Jack looks down at himself and lets out pained sigh, and starts pulling the shirt off. 

“Sorry,” Jack says, his voice coming out a little too high and a little too frantic for Bitty’s liking. Then he just stands there and starts folding the shirt immediately. 

“Oh, Jack,” Bitty sighs. His heart clenches in his chest as he gets up on his knees on the bed, shuffling towards his boyfriend, who looks so lost standing there with that thin, eggshell blue t-shirt in his big hands. It isn’t the first time Bitty has seen him like this; Jack has explained it to him before, in a halting, quiet voice after the lights are turned off and his head is pillowed on Bitty’s chest. Bitty stroked his hair as Jack told him about feeling hollow, his chest tight with discomfort and his body thrumming with uncoiled energy. 

“Honey, come here?” Bitty reaches a hand out to Jack, fingers splayed, urging him to come forward. “Your run can wait, baby. Why don’t you come lay down with me for a little while?” 

Jack hesitates for a long moment, staring at Bitty’s hand. 

“You can be the little spoon,” Bitty says, letting a slight teasing lilt slip into his voice. They both know that nine times out of ten, Jack’s the little spoon anyways. 

That seems to register with Jack, thankfully. He steps forward, reaching out to grab Bitty’s hand and tangles their fingers together. Bitty easily manoeuvres him onto the bed, Jack making it easy by allowing himself to be led into the nest of pillows and blankets. 

Despite the spoon comment, Jack ends up sprawled half on Bitty’s chest, one leg thrown across Bitty’s thighs, his face tucked into the curve of Bitty’s neck. Bitty swears he can feel Jack’s heart beat thumping rapidly against his chest, and he knows that means Jack is feeling out of control. So, Bitty does the best that he can do; he holds Jack close, runs his fingers through his hair, waits with Jack until he feels like he’s ready to take the drivers seat again. 

In the meantime, Bitty doesn’t mind keeping him company. Not one bit.


	9. "I'm not wearing that."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T+ for suggestive/implied off-screen sexual content  
> Warnings: none

“No.” Jack shakes his head. “No, I’m not wearing that.” 

“Why not,” Bitty asks, putting on his best innocent face. “Is something wrong with it, sweetheart?”

“Bittle.” Jack eyes Bitty’s hands with the same expression he gets when he sees a spider; utter disgust with an edge of fear. “No.”

Bitty lets his face drop. “You don’t like your present?”

Jack pauses for a second, looks concerned for a moment, then shakes his head. Then, he lurches forward. 

Bitty’s fast, but he wasn’t expecting Jack to leap forward and grab him around the waist like that, so an instant later he finds himself captured. Jack grabs the Leafs jersey out of his hands, throws it across the room like its infested, and throws Bitty over his shoulder in one fluid movement. 

“Jack,” Bitty squeaks. “Put me down you big lug, oh my gosh.”

Jack does. He unceremoniously dumps Bitty on the bed, eliciting another squeak from him. He climbs on top of Bitty, keeping him trapped with his arms on either side of him. 

“I’ll take that as a no?” Bitty smirks. 

Jack leans down and nips at his ear. “I can’t believe my own boyfriend betrayed me.”

“Okay, okay,” Bitty laughs, trying to push Jack away. “Alright! Okay, I might have lied. That’s not your present.”

Jack’s brows raise slightly. “Oh?”

“Mhm,” Bitty hums. He hooks one hand over the waist of his jeans and peels them down the slightest bit, nodding his head in that direction so Jack will look.

Bitty sees the change in Jack’s expression when he sees the lace panties he’s wearing, in Samwell red, peeking out from underneath his jeans. Jack’s face goes from teasingly betrayed to… well. _Hungry_. His cheeks flush, his lips part as he lets out a breathy “oh”.

He looks back up at Bitty’s face and swallows. “You’re forgiven,” he says hoarsely. 

Grinning, Bitty reaches up and curls his hand around the back of Jack’s neck. “Damn right I am,” he says, and hauls Jack down for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Come join me on my [tumblr](http://pensversusswords.tumblr.com)!


End file.
